Never too late ?
by insanity122
Summary: Everyone knows what they want. They seem to know what to do to achieve their dreams. And somehow, they succeed. But sometimes, some people just don't. She works hard. But life is unfair. So, she plays chess with life, even though she only has a few pieces left. It's never too late, but what if it was this time ? (one-shot)


**It's never too late…**

 **But what if it was…**

People say it's never too late to realize their dreams. Never too late to love. Never too late to raise their voice. Never too late to say sorry. Never too late to try. People say it's never too late to be a better person. Never too late to forgive and forget. We can't always be right, so it's never too late to be wrong. People say a lot of things. Sometimes, they say things that they don't even understand. It's never too late to forgive. But, what is forgiving? How do you know if it is too late or not? What is love? How do you describe this abstract concept? Why rise our voices? What do we have to say? Are we standing against ideal or are we supporting their thought? Marines say pirates are bad. Do they speak their mind? Or perhaps they speak someone else's mind. Pirates say the marine are bad. But, the marine represent justice. Do they know why they say marines are bad? Civilians say how scary pirates are. But, the civilians think everything is scary. How do they judge? Revolutionary say the justice isn't good. Base on which standard? Do they think they are better? People say god exist some don't. People say a lot of things. But I say, would it matter if I hated marines? Would it matter if I dislike pirates? Would it matter if I didn't want to change the world?

Stuck inside the organization that proudly claim they would overthrow justice. Stuck in their ideal. Stuck in this world. Stuck with myself. Stuck inside imperfection. Stuck with past mistakes. Stuck on the verge of giving up. Stuck with no chance of living. Stuck with sickness Stuck inside the concept of: it's never too late. But, what if it was the moment I was born...

Stuck with only me, I tried something. Try to forget the nagging voice inside my mind. Fighting killed and silenced that voice. So I fought pirates. Strong ones so I could become stronger at the same time. To be better than I could be. I had an epithet. That name represents me. When pirates heard it, they would run and avoid me at any cost. I was the Raven. When I was younger, I heard it was never too late to try. So I tried. Even if I was already a teenager. I tried to be even better than a pirate hunter. I left my epithet and try to live like a marine. It was fun playing marine. Follow orders, being praised for my efforts. Rewarded for my hard work. Sleepless nights. Hard work and training. Along with tons of paper works. It was fun catching pirates with my chain sickle. I played the game, following every little rule. I was the perfect marine. I had a fun time with them. Sailing the ocean. Discovering island. It was indeed never too late to be someone good. Fighting evil pirates. The chain moves like a snake making impossible to know where I would strike with the sickle. I liked my weapon. With it, I quickly became a captain. I had blood on my hand, but who hasn't? I was like by all my crew. We were a strong family. We thought we were doing good. I thought I was doing good. But, this little quote, it's never too late was wrong. So horribly wrong. The moment I sin, it was too late to repent myself. Why helping a kid was wrong? Even though she was a fugitive, where was the sin in saving her from impel down? She didn't deserve this hell. And from that moment, it was too late to be a good person.

I was bad. In the name of "god" justice, I was no longer good. Why? Was it because I help? Does God forbid us from helping, saving someone? Did I ever serve true justice now that I know this justice wasn't true? No one knows. No one cares. Prejudice is too firmly implanted in our mind. So I did my own little justice. Even thought I was a criminal, I still stopped bad people. Funny how a civilian can turn into an outlaw in less than a second. Wonders why there are buster calls... It only needs a paranoiac to destroy the whole world... So I tried something else, because, it's never too late to raise my voice. But, that voice in the back of my mind didn't let me. **I second guess myself to death, I re-solicit every step. What if my words are meaningless? What if my heart's misleading this?** What if no one listens?

Still considered as a criminal, someone once said, it's not too late to change our fate. Tired of living in the shadow, I change my fate. I played cards with destiny. I guess I won. My path was no longer true justice nor mine. It was chaos. Justice isn't something real. We're all in shame. We're all to blame. Only we know why. Only we know our guilt. No one else. Because no one can understand our shame. Our sin. Being a pirate wasn't that bad. Instead of killing them, I killed marine. My former family. The perfect marine was known and considered as a traitor. I dishonoured the world government. But, I didn't mind. Because, it wasn't too late to be wrong. If I'm not right in this world, this meant I was wrong. And since I was already labelled this way, I guess I wasn't wrong to do this.

The crew was fun. Feared by many, but love of many, we travel everywhere. I saw something else. I saw a different world. Fun was brought to another level. Drinking 'till we collapsed. Dancing and laughing hard. Disturb that boring peace. Life as a pirate was indeed fun. We were like kids, thinking we were the bravest, the strongest and nothing could break us. We live in a dream. I guess, I wasn't too late for this. But, dreams aren't real. Dreams are illusions. Dreams are what plague our minds when we sleep. They come alive at night and disappear in fire and smoke at morning. We tried to live in this illusion. But, we weren't the greatest. We weren't the strongest and we were so wrong when we thought nothing could break us. This new world, was truly beautiful. But every beauty has its amount of cruelty. Like heaven. We were fools. We were too late to realize we were wrong. Too late to realize that this new world was our grave. And once more, I was too late. Too late to save them. Now, all dead in an execution, how can I tell them I'm sorry? People are wrong. It is too late to say sorry.

Stuck in this world. Stuck with myself. Stuck inside imperfection. Stuck with past mistakes. Stuck on the verge of giving up. Stuck with regrets. Stuck with no dreams. People are wrong. I was wrong. I didn't win against destiny. I lost. So I gamble with hazard. The worst of the kind. But what can I lose? Probably my sanity.

The hazard may or may not do great thing. But, when I bumped into someone I knew, I thought it was nice. It's never too late to re-create a bond, right? But, this time, before regretting something, I forgave him the moment I saw him. His top hat was not something that I could easily forget. When I stood on the hill, all I could see was his top hat floating in the middle of the flames. For so long I thought he was dead. Now that I know it's not too late to voice my feeling, I won't wait any longer. But, it seems that, even in love, I was too late. That Koala girl stole what was not too late. So, I didn't say a word. I was satisfied to just stay by his sides and work for him. But who was I joking? Who was I trying to fool? I wasn't satisfied. And did hazard worked with destiny? I was stuck inside the organization that proudly claim they would overthrow justice. But, I don't care. So I kept playing along. Hid my intention. Hid myself. Forgot myself. Bury myself. I thought it wasn't too late to at least try once more. Try to help. Help Sabo. Help what he held close. But, burying everything made everything worse. I buried everything and my soul. The world was cold. It was indeed too late to change. Barely responding to reality, I ran. Because it wasn't too late to run. Run away from the revolutionary. Run away from my feelings. Run away from myself. Run from what I've become.

At least, there was something I could do before everything was too late. But, running was not enough. Everything was chasing me. My past. My mind. My mistake. Marines, pirates and Sabo. I guess some people aren't that dumb. Because, some people say it's not too late to face your fear. But, how do you face them? Running is clearly not facing them. But, otherwise people say to never look back. What should I do? Facing my past and turn back, or keep running and never look back? I didn't know. So I bet one last thing with my future. I bet everything I had: nothing. And he still gave me something. Even though I had nothing. He gave me one hope. But, I had to be careful of how I used it. I only had one hope. But, as he gave me this hope, I heard brilliant people. They said, it's not too late to have faith. So I tried to have faith in this little hope.

I hid where no one could find me and what I had. I waited. But, what was I supposed to do with this hope? No one told me. What was I supposed to hope? Time? Chance? I waste my time by running. I lost the chance when I ran away. But, what if it wasn't too late to hang on? What if it wasn't too late to find courage? So I walk out of my hiding place. Instead of running, I walked. And I guess future had a speak with destiny and hazard, because, I bumped in Sabo once again. So I took that chance before it slipped away and told him sorry.

At that moment, I was glad to tell him sorry. Because at this exact moment, I knew that everything was too late. As tears dripped down and my heart slow down, I knew my time had completely slipped away. My breathing was almost non-existent. Everything around me was blurry. The world was cold. Yet, it was warm. His arms snaked around me and I could feel his tears falling on my cheek. I guess death is never too late. All these weights on my shoulder was slowly disappearing as I felt death grip my heart. I wished I could stop time for a minute. But, time cannot stop on a childish wish. I could hear Sabo talking, trying to force life into me. Telling me to not give up. But, I gave up a long time ago. The moment I knew I was sentenced to die in sickness. But, for one last time, I did something before everything was too late. Using my last force, I gently grab his head. I didn't care if he was already with Koala. I have loved him since the day we met on that mountain. My fingers grip his blond lock and I pulled him closer. Our lips met for a second and tears poured out our eyes. He stole my last breath that I gladly gave him and I close my eyes. What a shame we were too late to love.

* * *

Hey there :)

It's been a while since I didn't write anything sorry. But here is another oneshot featuring Sabo this time.

So, there are a lots of question with no answer. I wonder what you think about them.

But, what is forgiving? How do you know if it is too late or not? What is love? How do you describe this abstract concept? Why rise our voices? What do we have to say? Are we standing against ideal or are we supporting their thought?

Okay, I won't write all of the question, but it would be fun to know your answer.

If you wonder why a part is bold, it's because it's from **a song I don't own**. Hope of morning from Icon for hire.

Like, comment, subscribe, please ?

So, I don't own One piece nor Sabo. I only own my own imagination :)


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